


Two to Tango

by grandsequel (Yunho)



Category: K-pop, SHINee
Genre: Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-10
Updated: 2012-06-10
Packaged: 2017-11-07 10:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/430101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yunho/pseuds/grandsequel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jinki has a secret, a really, really bad secret. If nothing else, it's a good life lesson on why he should be more careful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two to Tango

Jinki had a secret, a crazy, crazy secret that could potentially destroy everything he and his group members had built and nurtured over 2 years but he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop and it scared him almost just how far deep he was in. This secret was killing Jinki, very slowly but surely killing him.   
  
And Jinki was going to end it.   
  
\---  
  
This was Jinki’s plan: First he was going to ignore Minho. Then, with any luck, everything would be better and his secret would eventually wither away and disappear. It was a good plan, he thought to himself. If only Taemin hadn’t found out his secret first.  
  
Taemin accosted him after school one afternoon, just as Jinki walked into the dorm. It wasn’t Taemin’s blunt words that stopped Jinki in his tracks—although he was admittedly quite shocked by them—but his acute observation skills that had somehow uncovered the older boy’s secret. Jinki really wanted to know how the younger boy found out.  
  
“Hyung,” Taemin started, depositing his bag on the dining table and turning to Jinki, “I think I know why you’ve been so strange lately.”  
  
Jinki audibly gulped, giving a strained laugh as he scratched his head awkwardly. “Taemin-ah, I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about,” he replied, trying to casually step out of the kitchen. He stumbled down the single step separating the kitchen from the living room, ruining his attempted exit.  
  
Taemin just rolled his eyes, clucking his tongue impishly as he followed Jinki into the living room. He plopped himself down onto the couch comfortably and switched on the TV. “Oh you know, just your awkwardness around Minho hyung.”  
  
Jinki’s next breath went in awkwardly, that was why he suddenly choked. “Uhm—”  
  
“It’s okay, hyung, I won’t tell him or anything. But I think you should before Key or Jonghyun hyung finds out, because they  _definitely_  will. You know how Key is. He won’t stand for something like this.”  
  
Not knowing what else to do or say to the younger boy, Jinki simply nodded and made his way to his room, thinking. He missed the amused grin on Taemin’s face as he walked away.  
  
\---  
  
It took Jinki only a week to realize that avoiding a fellow a group member was difficult, but avoiding two was impossible. And dangerous, considering one of them knew a secret about the other that could very royally turn things awkward between the entire group.  
  
A week after Taemin confronted him, Jinki was still moving to the far end of rooms when Minho entered, leaving large gaps between them in the car, not speaking a word to the other boy. When Jinki once purposely left the dressing room as Minho came inside, he didn’t miss the hurt look that flashed over the younger boy’s face as Jinki made his escape. It made him guilty, very guilty because this was  _his_  group member that he was hurting and clearly confusing the hell out of but at the same time, Jinki’s fear of being caught was too great. To great and too tragic, at least according to Kibum.  
  
“I get that your life is just one big tragedy, hyung,” Kibum announced as he came into his room. “But don’t you think you’re laying the guilt on Minho a little too harsh?”  
  
Jinki stared at him dumfounded—something he found himself doing a lot recently. “Key, what’re you—”  
  
“I mean,” Kibum went on, ignoring Jinki, “his cooking last month was pretty bad. But you weren’t the only one who got sick from it. Jjong is still recovering too I think. So that’s no reason for you to be treating him like hell.”  
  
Jinki’s eyes widened. “Key, wait, I’m not—”  
  
“And really, watching Minho screw up in rehearsal just because you’re clearly ignoring him and giving him the cold shoulder? Very mature hyung. All over some crappy food too.” Kibum huffed and grabbed some clothes from the closet, a towel slung over his shoulder as he left for the bathroom.  
  
“But Key—!” The younger boy was already gone before Jinki could finish.  
  
\---  
  
Jinki was not going to wait for Jonghyun to confront him too, because if he noticed Jinki’s behavior, then Jinki was certainly failing in his leader duties.   
  
Avoiding Minho was not working, that much was for sure. Jinki however, had no idea what else there was for him to do.  _Talk to him? Confess?_  That had been Kibum and Taemin’s idea, but Jinki could only imagine how the conversation would go.  
  
“Hey Minho, there’s something I need to tell you—”  
  
“So now you’re talking to me?”  
  
Jinki, quite embarrassingly, jumped before spinning around from the mirror, coming face to face with Minho himself standing warily in the bathroom doorway.   
  
“Th-this isn’t what it looks like,” he tried to say, which he realized only after the words spilled out that yes, yes it was  _exactly_  how it looked like because Jinki was quite obviously talking to himself in the bathroom mirror.  
  
“It’s okay hyung, forget it.” Minho sounded almost cold, almost cold and callous like he’d been during their predebut. It shocked Jinki because it had been a long time since he’d seen the dismissive attitude from the younger boy.  
  
Something akin to panic welled in Jinki’s chest and without thinking, he rushed out of the bathroom, following Minho before grabbing his wrist and yanking him back. Minho’s back collided with Jinki’s chest and from there it was inevitable that they would fall backward.   
  
“Ow,” Jinki mumbled as Minho fell on top of him. The rapper scrambled to his feet, elbows digging painfully into Jinki’s stomach and long legs tangling impossibly with his before he finally managed to raise himself back up. He turned and offered Jinki his hand, who gratefully took it.  
  
Jinki resolutely ignored the shiver that raced down his spine as his clammy fingers came in contact with Minho’s own dry hand. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”  
  
“It’s fine,” Minho interrupted gruffly and really, Jinki firmly believed his group members needed to let him finish his sentences before talking. When Minho tried to walk away again though, Jinki grabbed his shoulder, stopping him. He was glad that his touch didn’t knock the boy down again.  
  
When Minho turned and looked at him curiously, Jinki hated the guarded look that appeared in his eyes before they averted to the wall. “I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you lately,” Jinki stated, worrying his bottom lip.  
  
“Have you been? I hadn’t noticed.” Jinki deserved that, he supposed. He breathed deeply before gathering his courage. This was going to come out badly, he knew it.  
  
“I have a good reason,” he started.  
  
“Really? What’s this ‘good reason’ you have for ignoring your boyfriend?”  
  
Jinki fiddled with the edge of his shirt, absentmindedly pulling out a stray thread and flicking it at the wall. It landed on Minho’s socked foot. “You remember a few weeks ago, when we… _taped_ …ourselves…in your room?” Jinki’s voice dropped to an embarrassed whisper, face beating red. Minho nodded wordlessly, one arm wrapping around Jinki’s neck. The heat from his palm was soothing as Jinki forged on. “And remember how I told you I’d keep the tape in my closet, because it’d be better in my room than yours and Jonghyun’s?” Again Minho nodded, a look of worry suddenly passing over his distinct features. “Now don’t panic, okay?” And really, Jinki should have known Minho would begin to panic at those words.   
  
Minho’s eyes widened impossibly large, mouth dropping. “Hyung, please,  _please_  don’t tell me—”  
  
“Yeah. I lost it.” And there it was, the secret out in the open. Literally. “I lost that video of us salsa dancing.”


End file.
